Regarding Jesse
by AliasJaneDoe
Summary: The thoughts of those not present during the tragedy which changed their lives. (takes place in the aftermath of the events which occurred in "Noah Kilmartin's Son") COMPLETE
1. Shalimar

Regarding Jesse  
  
Author: ghostwritten  
  
Type of story: drabbles  
  
Season: set in the future sometime after season two, sequel to my other story "Noah Kilmartin's Son"  
  
Warnings: deals with character death, minor language  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own MX, and I'm not sure who all does, but it's theirs and not mine.  
  
Summary: Shalimar, Emma, and Brennan's thoughts regarding life, Jesse, and Adam's death.  
  
Notes: This hasn't been beta-read and isn't anything special, just me trying to work through some writer's block. I'm only posting this since several people requested a sequel to my other drabble.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Shalimar's POV  
  
~~~~~  
  
I can't believe we just left him.  
  
That's my only thought, and otherwise I'm numb. We left him there. How horrible are we that we fled and didn't bring him back home with us? Whatever happened to nobody gets left behind?  
  
And this wasn't nobody. Isn't nobody! This is Adam.  
  
Jesus Christ, we came home without Adam...  
  
It hurts to think it, and I want to punch my fist through the nearest wall. Better yet, I'd like to tear a hole through Eckhart's chest and rip the heart from his body. If he even has a heart.  
  
I hate him. I hate this. I need to break something. That's how I cope with the bad stuff, I break things.  
  
And yet... I can't manage to so much as get up. I'm just sitting on the floor. Sanctuary feels empty and cold. I detest the cold, but it doesn't really matter, I hardly notice it. There's still that all-consuming numbness. I should be angry rather than numb, shouldn't I?  
  
Why am I numb?  
  
I can't believe we left him. I hate Brennan for making that call. I don't care that he was already dead when we got there. It wasn't just his body to me. It mattered to me. Couldn't Brennan see that? Doesn't he know?  
  
Adam is - shit, but I can't bring myself to say was - like my own father. He has always been there for me, near about so long as I can remember. He's been there.  
  
Bren and Emma, they're too new to get that. They didn't know him like I did. I want Brennan to be in as much pain as I am. How dare he make that decision! And what right did he have? He can never replace Adam! And I hate Emma as well. As soon as we got home, she just disappeared. I wonder if she cares at all that Adam is gone.  
  
Her and Bren, they don't understand. Adam was like flesh and blood family to me and Jess. He was more of a father to us than ours were. I don't care what they say, water is thicker than blood.  
  
Water is all I have left.  
  
At least I still have Jesse. My brother, regardless of blood. We're both Adam's children, and that's enough to seal us together for life. Jesse is the only family I have now.  
  
And I hate him too. He's the reason he's all I have left in this world. Adam is dead because of him.  
  
I'm standing in the doorway of his room now, and I don't even know how I got here. I'm just here. I can't feel my legs, but I must have walked. I stare at my feet, at the floor, and then at the wall. Finally, I look over at Jesse.  
  
He's crumpled, lying on his bed as if he just collapsed onto it. He's at an angle, his head not at the pillow and his feet pulled up just enough so they aren't hanging off the edge. He looks like he just fell down and doesn't care that if he moves a mere foot, he might actually be comfortable. Maybe he's like me, though. He won't be comfortable no matter what.  
  
I want to be mad at him, but instead I find myself crawling up onto the bed with him and settling close beside him. He's not asleep. He shivers a bit and coughs from too much crying. It's been hours and the tears have run dry, but he's still shaking with the sobs. He coughs again and I wrap him in my arms.  
  
Are his clothes damp? For the most part, they seem dry, but the material is cool at the seams. I shift a bit and realize that his shirt is very faintly stained. With Adam's blood.  
  
Aww, Jess... He hasn't even changed his clothes.  
  
I stroke his hair gently, brushing it back from him forehead. Then I worriedly place my hand against his cheek. His skin is slightly warmer than it should be. Damn it. He's exhausted and he's grieving, and now he's making himself sick on top of everything else.  
  
But it's nothing some dry clothing and a full night's sleep won't fix. I automatically stand and walk to his dresser, fetching a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. Then I return to the side of the bed.  
  
"Come on, Jess, get up," I prod softly. He doesn't move.  
  
I tug his arm until he sits, then I yank at the old shirt and pull it over his head. I pause, holding the material in my hands. I look at the stain left by the blood - I don't want to look, I just can't not. I don't know what I'm doing any longer, and I don't know why, but suddenly I'm crying again. I wouldn't know I was crying, but my face is wet from tears dripping down it. Damn tears. I never cry.  
  
I cross the room and consider dropping Jesse's shirt onto the pile of dirty clothes that occupy his floor that I suppose is his version of a laundry hamper. I fold it neatly before letting it go.  
  
My mind must have wandered off without me noticing, because as I turn back around, I notice Jesse is now fully changed. He's watching me, but his expression is blank. We're both just going through the motions right now. Nothing wants to register.  
  
I grab a blanket from somewhere and return to him. I drape it over him as I encourage him to lie back down, head on the pillow this time. I lie beside him, hold him close, and I want to cry. More than just silent tears, I want to weep.  
  
But I can't wail out my sorrows now, because Jesse curls up against me, sniffling and crying himself, and I instinctively begin to shush and soothe him. He knots a fist tightly in my sleeve, clingy and desperate. I hold him more tightly.  
  
I can't be angry with him. It wouldn't be right, and also I just can't. I'm forced to let him off the hook. He's lost more than any of us today.  
  
I can't hate Brennan or Emma either. This is a lot to deal with, and I can't fault them for being distant. Brennan's in a hard place right now, and Emma feels all that we do, so she needs to be alone to clear her head. They both have their own sorrow to deal with. I do know that.  
  
But I have to hate somebody - blame somebody - because I need to fault someone. If no one else, then I'll blame Adam for leaving me. And I will hate myself if I do that.  
  
So I curse Eckhart's name. I will curse him until the day I die.  
  
I can't bear the numbness, yet I can't cope with the aching either. And I'm sorry, but I can't do this right now. Jesse and I have always gone to each other for comfort and support, but this pain destroys us both. We're both seeking a shoulder to cry on, but neither of us is ready yet to provide one. The wound is too fresh. We only want and can't yet give.  
  
I can't be his rock right now. I'm not strong enough. I can't hold him up when nothing is keeping me from crashing down.  
  
I don't know how or when I left Jesse's room, but I'm now walking to Brennan's. If I can't find solace in Jesse's arms, then I'll look for it in Brennan's bed, in his touch, in the feel of his body.  
  
I yearn for him to fill this emptiness because anger isn't enough. Hating Eckhart brings me no peace. I need to be comforted, in any way I can receive that comfort.  
  
I know it's never been true love or anything sappy like that. I'm not blind, despite trying to be. It - this relationship between us beyond friendship - well, it was just fun. Stress relief, I guess you could say, and no potential for anything deeper. But it's been good. And even if it's not forever, I need him to be with me tonight.  
  
But when I reach his door, it's locked.  
  
Everything has changed already. It's all changed, and I don't know how to deal.  
  
Already, Bren? You're different already? And you've locked me out. You've never closed your door to me before. Are we over? Were we over the instant Adam died? Were we over long before even that?  
  
Why can't he still love me? I only want tonight. Just one more night before I admit I can no longer have him.  
  
We could make love as if there'll be no tomorrow. Pretend that the world is ending, because in a way, it is. The life we had is gone. We'll wake up in the morning to a completely different reality.  
  
If we can even sleep at all. 


	2. Emma

~~~~~  
  
Emma's POV  
  
~~~~~  
  
I watch him, and I ache with him, and he just lies there on his bed with his hand clutched around a simple yet beautiful ring. He doesn't even see that I'm standing here, too awkward, too nervous, to venture into his room and intrude upon his thoughts. I wonder if he never gave it to her, or if she gave it back.  
  
His pain drew me here, but it might be best if I just return to my room before his emotions can suck me in. I should be meditating to clear my mind of all outside thoughts, yet I can't. I'm stuck nastily like chewing gum to the bottom of somebody's shoe.  
  
Is he thinking about her? Does he mourn her loss as much as he grieves for Adam? I don't think I could stand it if he does. How can he miss the devil who seduced and betrayed him? Betrayed us.  
  
Adam is dead because he loved her. I want to be upset with Jesse for this. It was stupid and selfish of him to risk everything for her. It wasn't all his to risk!  
  
I mean, just damn it all to hell! But even swearing doesn't help, doesn't make me feel any better. I guess that's why I don't often curse, it's doesn't do any good. Adam is dead. Nothing will change that, and I can't get over it.  
  
Adam is dead.  
  
And Jesse is holding her ring. It's sickly symbolic as it rests in his palm while the ring that bound him to Mutant X is absent from his finger. He traded it all for her. I don't know if he realizes it yet, but he did.  
  
Sure, we all cried earlier - we wept during the almost surreal trip home. We shed our tears then for Adam, and we were a family one last time. But the absence of emotion from Brennan was disconcerting. He put the Helix on autopilot, and then he did the same with himself. He helped us dry Jesse enough for him to be able to zap the offensive governor, but he never really touched or looked at any of us - he was like a stranger all of a sudden, like he didn't belong there with us while we mourned. I know he felt it all, but he didn't show any of it for more than a few brief seconds here and there, and that was the straw I think broke us. And now Shalimar has left Jesse's side. And here I remain, afraid to knock on his doorframe.  
  
What kind of family are we that we offer Jesse no comfort? Can we ever learn to sanction his choice? Can we bring him back into the fold now that he's shattered it, now that we know we came second to him?  
  
But we aren't really, never were. Jesse never meant to hurt us, and I do know that, we all do, but still it's... I dunno what it is. It just aches. It hurts that Jesse did this, and now he cries not only for us but also for her.  
  
How can I blame him? I can't fault him when I've done the same. I'm guilty of walking the same path. I risked seeking out an old friendship with Michelle after she'd turned to the GSA. I didn't care.  
  
I can tell myself that it's different. I knew Michelle before. And on some level, I'm convinced that before and after do matter. It was different before this war. She was my friend before it all, so why wouldn't that last into the after?  
  
But with Jesse... He didn't know this girl who captured his heart. She was the enemy when they met. What made him think he could redeem her? I'd hate him for it, but then I'd be hating Jesse for being Jesse.  
  
I can't stand it that he misses her. And yet, I couldn't bear it if he didn't still love her. She broke his heart, and right now it probably seems like she ruined his life, but even though he can never take her back, I know he can someday forgive her. And I know he'll always love her, because his compassion extends even to the fallen. He just always cares.  
  
I'd be upset either way. I don't want him to love her after what she did, but he wouldn't be Jesse if he didn't still feel something for the person he'd wanted to marry. So damned if you do and damned if you don't, Jess. Sorry.  
  
But he does love her - I feel it. Not all his tears are being shed for Adam. He's crying for her also, and she isn't even dead. And he's not crying for himself because she broke his heart - he's crying *for her,* because she's like an angel with broken wings. He's crying for her because she chose the wrong side, and somewhere down the road, she'll be made to pay for that decision.  
  
Jesse is so weak, but so special, because of that. No matter what, he tries to see the good in people. Maybe with Adam's death, he'll become more guarded and less trusting. He'll harden his heart so that people can no longer walk all over him. He'll be strong, and he won't be stepped on. But I pray he doesn't close himself too very much, because I would miss his innocence in the way he views the world. He's often been hurt, but he always heals. So hopefully he won't turn his heart to stone because of this.  
  
But he literally does. His gentle touch becomes rock as he masses and crushes the small ring within his hand. Then he shifts back to normal and drops the deformed piece of silver onto the sheet beside him. And his body shakes with silent sobbing.  
  
I actually hope his heart is broken, because if it's frozen instead, then it's not only Adam that I've lost today but Jesse as well.  
  
I can't read his thoughts. I only feel what he feels. I only know that it hurts. And it's good that he cries. In my experience, sorrow fades yet anger lingers. He can heal more easily from sadness. Although I ache to see him sobbing.  
  
Just because you didn't get married, Jess, that doesn't mean you'll never have a normal life. I know how you feel right now, but you're not a freak. Or maybe you are, but I now admit that I am too. And is it really so bad?  
  
He *is* different, and not like everybody else. That's why he's so special. That's why I love him.  
  
Once more I contemplate entering, to tell him this, and yet I don't. He needs time to sort things out on his own. So I wander back to my own room where I also lie myself down across my mattress and cry. But I don't cry for Jesse. I have to believe that he will heal. I have faith that he'll be okay. In time.  
  
So instead, I cry for Adam. And I cry for Brennan who never wanted to take his place.  
  
-----  
  
Next up, Brennan's thoughts (which will be the final chapter).  
  
To those of you who've asked about NoS, I'm not writing this story because I've given up on that one. I'm writing this in an attempt to get over my writer's block and get myself back into the mood where I can continue it.  
  
Also, feel free to e-mail me or leave a review. Feed the muse! Comments make me think, and when I think, I usually end up writing. So thank you to those of you who send feedback - much appreciated. 


	3. Brennan

Warnings: little bit of language, some mature thoughts  
  
~~~~~  
  
Brennan's POV  
  
~~~~~  
  
I heard the door rattle when Shal tried to enter my room. A part of me wanted to open it, but it wouldn't be right. The shift occurred when Adam died, not when I turned the lock. It had already happened, and I don't get a chance to... put my affairs in order.  
  
But I always knew if this day came, it would come without warning and be swift. If I try to make the transition gradually, it will only hurt more.  
  
Shal and I, we would have ended soon anyway. We both could tell that it wouldn't last. Sure, we could be great for a while - and we were - but our relationship was the kind destined to burn brightly but quickly burn out. It wasn't the kind of thing where you could say that this was it, that we'd be together for the rest of our lives and be happy.  
  
Ours just isn't that kind of chemistry. You mix us together and we explode. It was more about lust than love, but we went into it pretending that it could be love. But we never talked about the future. We didn't seriously have one, and I don't think either of us was dense enough to think we could.  
  
But when have I ever cared about the future? I live from moment to moment. Always have. Shal's the same way. That's why we hooked up, because we wanted that really great moment.  
  
It's over now, though. I can't be both her lover and her leader. Sex complicates things. I can't share a bed with somebody that I'm required to place in danger. And risk is part of our job. It's what we do every day.  
  
Only now, I'm calling the plays. And if my orders put her in harm's way, I can't let my personal feelings interfere. I can't value her above Emma and Jesse. I could never risk them in order to help Shal.  
  
And sleeping with somebody can blind you to where they're all that matters, and you'd do anything for them. It causes poor judgement. Which sounds odd coming from a guy who believes it's entirely possible to have women without having relationships, but when I take the same girl to my bed more than once, I can't help but feel... something. It's guilt, or responsibility maybe, if not love - and it's not... love.  
  
But my point is, sex or love or whatever so long as it goes beyond purely lust, well, it leads to friendship or caring or, like I said earlier, responsibility.  
  
Just look what happened to Jesse.  
  
He fell for a pretty face, and he got burned. Hell, he got flambéed.  
  
And Adam paid the price. Because she mattered more to Jesse than anyone else. That's what it all comes down to right there - she mattered more.  
  
I wonder if Jess will ever take a chance like that again. I honestly don't know. I used to think I knew him well enough to say yes with certainty, but after today...  
  
Jesse has changed. It was only during our trip back, but there's a new pattern now - he does as I say without protest or comment. He merely obeys. And I miss the banter. I miss the sarcastic remarks. I miss how whenever I took charge in the past, he would... God, I remember how he had this coy little smirk, and he'd look to me when I wasn't sure what to do, and he'd call me "Sir" with complete disrespect because he thought he could lead us better.  
  
But he doesn't want to call the shots now. He didn't then either. It was just... sibling rivalry, for lack of a better term. Yet that's all gone now, and I hate the way he obeys me without question. What makes him think that I'm any smarter now than I was then?  
  
Leaning heavily on my dresser, I stare into the mirror on the wall above it. Am I actually any different now? Have I learned anything as I've grown older? I don't think I have. I mean, well yeah, obviously I have changed some, as can be expected since everybody does, but I don't feel it.  
  
Christ! This is all just too much to handle right now. I look at my reflection again, and it's older than I want to be. I haven't been young in many years, though. Not really. With my life, I was forced to grow up pretty fast. Never had much in the way of a real childhood. But I've always been, well, a free spirit I suppose, to put it mildly.  
  
I go where I want, when I want, and I do whatever the hell I want. But now... shit. It's right there in the mirror, and I swear I can actually see it. There's this weight pressing down on me, and it's the same weight of the world that Adam wore on his shoulders... except that he carried it better. On me it's just... different, strange.  
  
Who'd have ever thought it - Brennan Mulwray with real responsibilities? Obligations. Commitments. That's so, wow, and definitely unexpected. Weird. I've become completely somebody else than I always thought I'd turn out being.  
  
And I'm actually afraid to be him - yeah, me afraid, well and truly so - because I'm not sure I know how. I never even noticed when my life turned around. I guess it was when I joined Mutant X, but I never actually expected that to stick. I just never left either.  
  
And now the years have passed by and... here I am. I think if I met me, I might actually be somebody that I'd admire. And that sounds utterly and absurdly insane, but it's true. I'm the kind of person that I would meet, shake hands with and exchange awkward but thankfully brief pleasantries with, and then I'd be on my way, only to ever meet me again if I were to return to rob me blind and then never look back and give myself a chance to regret it.  
  
But I am me. And this me is significantly harder to be than the thief. I had no expectations of myself back then. I would never let myself, or anybody else, down. Now... there's that damn weight upon my shoulders.  
  
Just because Adam is dead, that doesn't mean I'm suddenly now able to do this. In fact, I can't do this!  
  
When Adam died, it's not like some magical little fairy flew out his ass, bopped me on the nose with her wand, and sprinkled me with the pixie dust of knowledge! That's crap. Because when Adam died, I got nothing. I certainly didn't gain the wisdom needed to fill his shoes. He might have had smaller feet than I do, but his metaphorical shoes are frickin' huge.  
  
So guess what, guys? Surprise! I'm still me. The old me, and not whoever that is in my mirror. When Adam died, I didn't become any better.  
  
When Adam died... he just died.  
  
Period. End of story.  
  
I'm still only me. I'm a person that I made myself. And how is that possibly good enough when Adam was... so much better than anything I strive to be? I'm bound to fail if I try to be all that he was.  
  
So what's supposed to be expected of me now? Why can't I just pack my bag and take off? Why can't I go back to being responsible for only one person - me. And I barely managed at that. Why must I stay and be the one to bear this burden? Why do I even care?  
  
Why should I be scared of this when it's not mine. I didn't inherit Mutant X, or this war. I have to choose it. I have the choice!  
  
And still... Still I know I can't ever walk away. I'm here, and this is for real. This is for keeps. Whoever I am now, I'm not somebody that can turn my back.  
  
Shal, Emma, Jess... I'm going to make mistakes and let you all down. Repeatedly. All I can offer is that I won't leave. I swear I won't ever leave.  
  
Okay... so...  
  
Bring on the morning, I guess. I'm not ready for it, and it'll be hard for a while, but I know the others don't expect perfection from me right off the bat. Maybe not ever.  
  
I'm only required to do my best.  
  
I think perhaps I can manage that.  
  
I've already pondered away most of the night, so I might as well get up and start my day. Adam was always up early, so I'm sure there's lots that needs to be done. My first task will be figuring out what the hell those jobs are.  
  
I grab some fresh pants out of a drawer and snag a shirt from my closet - both black. We all seem to wear a lot of black; it's never been symbolic of anything before.  
  
Abandoning the quiet peace and solitude of my room, I wander the dark, empty halls of our Sanctuary. The others all fled to their own rooms yesterday, and I don't expect to bump into any of them for quite a while. I'm fairly positive it's still before dawn. Emma might venture out sometime around noon, likely to meditate and sit by the reflecting pond. As for Shal and Jess, I dunno. I might eventually need Emma's help to drag them out of their beds and make sure they at least eat something.  
  
That's if Emma can bear to be around them at all. That much grief could suffocate her. If I'd gotten her gift, I'd sure as hell be trying to exchange it. It takes somebody pretty strong to feel what everyone is feeling and not go nuts because of it. Em's a real tough little thing in that regard.  
  
But as for what's left of tonight, though, we're all alone... and that hurts because now is when we need each other the most. But we all need to handle this night apart, all for different reasons. And we'll survive it.  
  
Come sunrise, the cold light of day will bring us back together. One less, but still strong. Maybe damaged, maybe broken for a while. But still a team. And we will all pull through this together and remain intact. And not because of the mission; I don't put all my faith in that.  
  
I put my faith in the fact that, now more than ever, we're family. We have to be.  
  
Perhaps I'm in denial or just plain lying to myself, but I believe we'll be okay given time. So I make my way to the lab and sit in Adam's usual chair. And I always assumed they were on a timer, but now I wonder if it's only this dark in here because Adam wasn't up before me this morning to turn on the lights.  
  
-----  
  
THE END  
  
-----  
  
I'm calling this the final chapter, because I don't think working on this story any more will help me in finding my lost MX muse. Also, I've now done all the Mutant X POV's, and nobody's really interested in this story anyway.  
  
Do you all just not like first person stories? I'm curious why my posting this only seemed to spark a new round e-mails concerning my Name of Science series. Do you simply not appreciate being left hanging without an end for Messiah Strand? I'd certainly understand that, but I don't think I'm quite ready to continue that yet. I tried to write this to get myself back in the mood, but I think all I proved is that I don't belong in Bren's head at four in the morning! 


End file.
